Righteous Serenity
by insincerealgai
Summary: At eighteen, James Sirius Potter left. One day, he just left and never returned... until now. Now, he's reluctantly back. Teddy and Rose are determined to find out why he did leave everyone who loved him behind, and James is forced to confront his past.
1. Prologue

So, this is an plot bunny that's been eating at me for a while. I can't promise frequent updates, but hopefully the story's worth the wait. I finally got around to posting it, so... you know, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

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><p><em>"Are you James Sirius Potter?"<em>

_"Yes."_

_"Why did you come back to England?"_

James held Kingsley's glare, matching his with one of fury and indignation.

"I didn't come here of my own accord, I believe some over-eager Aurors dragged me back," James snapped, glowering at Kingsley over the other side of the table.

"Maybe if you hadn't been so stupid as to use magic in front of Muggles, we wouldn't have had to!" Kingsley retorted; even at twenty-three, James Sirius Potter was still a brilliant pain in the ass.

"Can I go now?" James sighed, crossing his arms impatiently.

"I don't think you understand. Harry Potter's son or not, using magic in front of Muggles, _especially_ the way you did, can get you thrown into Azkaban in the blink of an eye."

For the first time, James looked mildly afraid; Azkaban was a far worse place than Muggle prisons, which he had apparently spent some time in. Azkaban made Muggle prisons look like a walk in the fucking park.

"Yeah, that's right Potter. I'm not going to give you special treatment just because your daddy saved the world," he sneered, obviously having a much lower opinion of Harry Potter's son than Harry Potter himself. And maybe a grudge, too. Perhaps he had embarrassed the Ministry one too many times.

And for some reason, James grinned in a way that reminded him of how Sirius acted when he was up to something - when he had finally gotten what he wanted.

"What are you plotting, Potter?"

"Keep me out of Azkaban and if you're lucky, you'll find out."

"Potter… you know what? I might have a better idea. It's never been tried before, and I would really like to know how this would turn out."

James raised his eyebrows curiously, inclining his head slightly to show that he was interested. "Go on."

"Long story short, a work-release program."

"A _what?_"

"You help out an Auror - that I assign, by the way - with his or her investigation. New name, new identity. Glamour should cover that bit easily enough, and you'll finish the program over the course of a year Maybe more. I haven't decided yet."

"So I'd be free to go wherever I want, I'd just work at the Ministry? What makes you think I wouldn't just leave?"

"Because if you did run for it, we would be relentless. And when we catch you, _and yes Potter, we will catch you;_ maybe not in five, ten years, but we would, you would be thrown in Azkaban before you can say, "Harry Potter". That, and seeing as Ron Weasley has been sent solo on a top-secret undercover mission, Harry Potter has been left without a partner."

"You're saying that I would be working with my FATHER?" James exclaimed, sitting up from his previously slouching, _I-don't-give-a-fuck_ position in the chair.

"Yes. Maybe you'll actually learn to respect him," Kingsley shot back.

"Hey, I did respect him!" James said, defending himself.

"If you respected him, you would have actually said goodbye," Kingsley responded, and that shut the eldest Potter boy up… at least for the moment.

"And for reasons I won't disclose to you, you'll be using glamour whenever you're here, at the Ministry."

"What, don't want the word to get out that Harry Potter's firstborn went bad?" James asked, sneering.

"No, because I don't want to cause Harry any more pain by seeing you."

To be honest, that one _almost_ hurt… almost. "I don't even have the proper training to be an Auror - I wasn't planning on working at the Ministry after Hogwarts. I had a Seeker position lined up for the Chudley Cannons, even got them their first winning season in years before I left. Let me tell you, Uncle Ron got me the best birthday present ever that year," James said, a ghost of a smile tracing his lips.

"Well, even though you did well in school, we'll have to have you go through a quick training program before you get on the field with Harry."

"What's my alias?" James asked, curiously.

"Travis Jones; half blood. Mother is Maggie Thorpe, pureblood witch that married a Muggle, Sam Jones."

"Travis, really?" He raises his eyebrows, clearly unimpressed.

"It could be worse."

"When do I start?"

"Now."

Just bloody brilliant. If it's not Muggle police, it's Aurors. He held back a groan, although judging from Kingsley's smug expression he must look pretty resigned anyways.

He imagines what kind of comment _she_ would have to say about this, but he can't bring himself to. Not here, with Kingsley breathing down his back. Not without alcohol - _firewhiskey_.

"I can assume that you won't be supplying room and board?"

"You can rightly assume that," Kingsley said, a smug tone in his voice.

He hides his frown, but that detail could pose as an inconvenience; because of his most recent rendezvous in Mexico, he was broke… and it wasn't like he could just stroll into Gringotts, asking about his old account.

Besides, someone might recognize him. Even though Kingsley hadn't officially stated that people weren't to know he was back, James himself wasn't ready for the entire Wizarding World to know that the 'Prodigal Son' had returned. If he had his way, he would only be here for a year - enough to satisfy the Aurors so they would get off his back. He didn't want his family finding out; no attatchments that would make him reconsider staying here.

Which meant he would have to steal. He wasn't dumb enough as to steal from Wizards, but Muggles… that was another story. Muggles weren't a real challenge, _the easy way out_, but he wasn't in a position to think about the more challenging, preferable alternative. Smirking to himself, he leaned back in his chair. This would be easy.

James was drug out of his scheming with a shout, "Potter! Hate to interrupt, but be here at seven sharp tomorrow morning for training. I'm going to inform Harry that he'll get a new partner next week, and you best be here."

"Yes, _Minister,_" James said, with a sneer worthy of any Malfoy.

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><p>THAT NIGHT...<p>

James sat at a bar in Muggle London, slowly drinking the alcohol in front of him. The one thing he missed about the Wizarding World was the whiskey… it was so much better.

A blonde girl slid into the seat next to him, swaying drunkenly.

"Heyyyyyyyyyy, cutie." She leaned into him, conspiritorally. "So, myy friend thinks I can't get you to sleep with me. I saiddd no, I could."

She played with his shirt collar, unbuttoning the first button. Her breath tasted like alcohol, and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. Maybe it was just because he wasn't drunk, but he wasn't feeling it tonight…

In spite of himself, James smirked as he moved far into her personal space. "I'd say that your friend is wrong," as he leaned in to kiss her. Compared to Maria, she was nothing. But he pushed that thought out of his mind as he snogged her more intensely, trying to rid his mind of her - of _that girl_.

He had a few more drinks, because he really wasn't drunk enough for this. They both agreed to leave, and as he looked over his shoulder, James could have sworn he saw Teddy sitting at a booth across from Rose.

And they were both looking straight at him.

Eyes widening, he swung his head back as he put an arm around the girl - was it bad he didn't even care what her name was? What had become of the great James Potter from Hogwarts - the Quidditch Captain and Head Boy? The one who didn't run and everyone looked up to? Shaking his head, James murmured,

"Let's go to your place," he whispers in her ear and she nods, too drunk to consider why not his.

They call a cab, and James sees Teddy and Rose racing to the outside of the bar, and Teddy spots him in the cab mere seconds before they drive away.

He shakes his head, and takes a swig of the bottle of alcohol they brought with them. She puts hand on his thigh, and he snakes his arm down her little black number. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees the cab driver roll his eyes.

_He's probably used to it._

James thinks as he kisses her again, again, again until they reach her apartment. He carries her up the steps, into her bedroom….

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><p><em>"Hey, that looks like -"<em>

_"James?"_

_"Yeah, you see him too?"_

Rose asked, not believing what her eyes saw. He had previously been dancing with a pretty drunk blonde, and was now leaving with her. Just like his typical old self, with a bottle of alcohol and an arm around the girl.

It was clear that he noticed them, and it was just as obvious the he didn't want to see either her or Teddy by the way he reacted. Some mixture of horror and dread combined, and maybe, _maybe _just a hint of fear.

_Why?_

What had enticed James to leave his family behind, without even a letter? Sure, he was a grown man and could make these desicions for himself, but that didn't mean he could just up and leave as he had.

It was the ultimate queston; all that Rose wanted, no needed, to know. It was what Teddy wanted to know, was all that the rest of his family had to know. He hadn't left behind any indication at all as to _why._

In the last few months that James had been here, he had been angrier. Definitely more unstable. More inclined to be found at a bar late at night instead of sleeping. Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny had been worried about him, but they hadn't been prepared for anything that James would do.

Rose just needed to understand. They all did. It was because she didn't understand that she couldn't get the closure that she needed and move on with her life.

Sure, she could try to forget about James, but that was only a temporary cure. It was hard to forget about someone who was in more than half of her childhood, she thought dryly.

Ironically, that was why she and Teddy had agreed to meet - so they could talk about James and try to understand why he left. They had picked a Muggle location because there was less of a chance anyone who overheard their conversation would care, much less understand what they were talking about.

"Teddy-" Rose glanced over at him, and met his eyes.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"If you're thinking about following him, then yes," Rose said, grabbing her coat and leaving a few bills as a tip.

"I always knew you were smart," Teddy appraised, following her out of the bar. Rose easily summoned a taxi, and they clamored into it.

"Follow that cab!"

The driver, a man with stark white hair in his late thirties, sped off after it.


	2. Chapter 1

So, I was struck by some random inspiration today and wrote some more! (:

I know that it kind of shifts randomly between past and present tense, so... yeah. D:

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><p>Harry James Potter, otherwise known as the Boy-Who-Lived or the Chosen One, paused at a shelf. His bright green eyes narrowed in concentration as he browsed leisurely through a section of books in a store in Muggle London. Harry had always made fun of Hermione for her love of them, but after everything that had happened lately he'd found himself turning to them as well.<p>

Not that he would admit to anyone, even Ginny, but they provided a nice escape. He didn't care how childish it sounded at the moment.

Having decided that his mood was too melancholy to buy anything, Harry started making his way outside the store when he noticed a young Hispanic woman staring at him. She was very pretty; big, dark brown eyes, wavy dark hair and skin greeted him from the front door. But what she said made his heart clench and eyes widen as she whispered,

"James?"

He doesn't know what to say, what to do. There was no denying that between James and Albus, it was the former who everyone said looked the most like him. If someone didn't know any better...

He hasn't seen is firstborn in what felt like years, and his heart aches at the thought of James.

The girl was clearly very intuitive, as she quickly revised, "You know James?"

Harry can't speak; his mouth has gone dry and he has no fucking idea what to do. He hasn't felt like this - this deep, sick twisted feeling of horror since Voldemort was around. He feels like a deer caught in the headlights and he wants to puke.

"How do you know James?" he finally finds words, and Harry hates how weak and raspy his voice sounds. His mouth is dry, and he hates how his emotions bleed from his skin.

She licks her lips, a thoughtful, pensive look on her face as she says, "It's a long story. Who are you?"

Harry can't bring himself to say. It fucking hurts, and someone might as well have punched him in the gut. He wishes he had grabbed a book so his hands would have something to hold on to - something to keep his grasp on reality.

He stays silent as he searches for the words - the right words, because father and son doesn't seem like the right term to describe his and James's relationship anymore, so she keeps talking. "Are you… are you his father? You've got to be, you look exactly alike,"

He manages a brief, barely perceptible nod that one would have caught only if he or she were paying close attention.

Thankfully, Harry finally finds a wall to press his hand against, gripping it as if it were a lifeline.

His green eyes flickered distrustfully, warily, curiously at her. "How?" Harry repeats, stiffly. An intensity that wasn't there before.

The girl bites her lip, her eyes reflecting his own thoughts. "Why don't we take a walk down to a cafe I know of? You might want to sit down..." she trails off, a curious mixture of confidence and uncertainty plastered on her face.

But Harry can't take it anymore. This has to be an illusion; all the previous stress of Voldemort and now his job as an Auror must have led him down the crazy path. Did he have schizo? Had he finally lost it and gone off the deep end?

Harry shakes his head. "No, you're not real. You're not. I've finally lost it and you need to _go _because you. Don't. Exist."

He turns to walk away, but her voice stops him. It's the desperate measure of pleading, he thinks, that makes Harry pause and turn to look back at her.

"Do you know where he is? I haven't seen him since the Mexico incident... I thought he might have come back here to... for something, I don't know. _Help me find him, Mr Potter. I think he might be in trouble," _

When he had discovered that James had gone, there had been no signs of a struggle. No note, most of his belongings gone from his apartment. They had assumed he left of his own accord, and after a heartbreaking discussion with Ginny, both of them had mutually agreed not to follow him.

For good measure, Harry grabbed a woman in a brown overcoat walking by. "Can you see her?" he asked, pointing at the girl.

She looked at him like he was crazy. _Maybe he was. _"Of course, asshole," she said, before yanking her arm away and stalking off.

Said female was smirking at him now, all traces of uncertainty lost.

"What's your name?" he asked, glancing down at what she was wearing. Skinny jeans, black high heeled boots, black leather jacket over a white shirt.

"Maria."

"So, Maria. Why should I help my son, who left willingly on his own accord, who never wrote or showed any indication he wanted us in his life?"

She didn't hesitate in her reply. "Because you're a good man, Mr Potter. James pissed off the wrong people, and I think he's in really serious trouble," Her dark eyes bled into his soul, bargaining with him. Testing to see if he was the hero everyone claimed him to be.

Harry sighed heavily; to this day, his life was never easy.

"Where do we start?"

Maria smiled faintly, relief showing briefly in her eyes.

"Walk with me, Mr Potter," she said, leading the way down the sidewalk, gesturing for him to follow.

Harry did follow... because he was starting to get really curious as to what happened in Mexico.

"Please, call me Harry."

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><p>James ducked another spell, panting heavily as he rolled with the remaining momentum and hid behind a wall, because <em>goddamn, did Kingsley have a grudge against him.<em>

True to his word, the man in charge had made certain that James would be in the Auror's training room bright and early the following morning. His glamor was up, and he was supposedly sparring against two older aurors he didn't know.

This was _nothing _compared to anything he had faced with Muggles, although it was starting to inch it's way up there. James jumped as he avoided another curse, and sent one flying back in the direction it came from.

Maybe it was his time spent with Muggles rubbing off on him, but James _really _preferred hand-to-hand combat. This felt so much out of his element, it was a wonder he had lasted this long unscathed.

"Give it up, Jones!" one of them shouted.

Jones? _Oh, yeah._

In response, he threw a dozen spells back at the two. Honestly, this training was really unnecessary and he was ready to murder Kingsley at this point. The guy _knew_ he could handle it, and the only reason he had the sessions was to torture him... vengeful jackass.

Thankfully the timed buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the training session. He came out from behind the wall, relieved.

"Not bad for a newbie, Jones. I think you'll fit in just fine here," the blonde one said, clapping him on the back. James bit back a grimace _because how much of an asshole would he be, then? _and grinned at the compliment. Like father, like son. He resisted a shudder.

"So, are you excited to work with Harry?" the blonde one asked, genuinely curious. _No I'm not, leave me alone to sulk and wallow in self-pity. _But any other wizard would be ecstatic if they were in his shoes right now, so...

"Yeah, it'll be great working with him. My mum wanted an autograph when I told her the news," he replied, the lie flowing easily from his mouth as he feigned a smile.

"It'll be good to have you. We've been running short of new aurors as of late, so it'll be nice having some new faces around here," he said.

"I'm supposed to meet him today,"

The one with a buzz cut hadn't spoken a word to him since he'd arrived, but spoke up now. "I don't think that'll be happening. He called off sick today, Jones," he said, suddenly.

_It's a miracle._

He tried not to look too relieved as he followed them down the hall towards the showers to clean up, bracing himself for Merlin-knows whatever else Kingsley had in stock for him.


End file.
